


Shooting Star

by palomino333



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palomino333/pseuds/palomino333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a flash fiction challenge: cold. Spoilers for Vice desk. Cole learns what it's like to stand on the edge of it all. Elsa can sympathize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shooting Star

The city lights below him burned bright, much akin to the stars in the night sky above.

Reaching a hand down from the high balcony above, Cole trailed his fingers over the dancing lights and the moving cars. Yank the veil back, and the splendor would fall away. There was the model found dead in her bath, a beautiful princess turning out to be a wicked witch beneath it all. There was the Golden Boy, caught, in photographs, no less, with another woman. He couldn't help but smirk bitterly at the notion of whether or not Roy got off on those photos.

Snatching his dangling hand back, he rubbed his arm as a slight shiver took over him. It wasn't overly cold tonight, but the chill of it all, nonetheless, got to him. The people of Los Angeles, despite all he had done from them, had turned their backs on him. Perhaps if he only leaned further, he would feel warmth again? Perhaps the stars would take pity on him, and accept him as one of their own?

"Cole?"

He turned at Elsa's voice, keeping one hand on the rail. "Yes?"

The tail of her white robe ghosted in the breeze as she came to stand beside him.

Cole turned back to look out over the edge. Elsa placed her hand to the rail, and he reached over, squeezing it.

"Up here, it feels almost like flying, doesn't it?"

With a short breath, Cole turned to look at her full on. Elsa gave a knowing nod.

Lou had died as the result of a fall, and he wondered if she had once wanted to jump after him.

"Don't worry," he comforted, "I don't give up that easily."

With a sigh, she replied, "Cole, I expected no less of you. I'll always have a place for you here, should you need somewhere to go."

A gust of wind kicked up. Elsa clutched her robe tightly about herself with a shiver. Cole placed an arm about her, holding her to him. "That's all I could ask for, thank you," he replied sincerely. Strange, how he felt more at home here than in the residence he himself had once owned, the latter a haven from the city itself, the former standing in the heart of the storm. Had he changed that much over such a short period of time, or was he always this monster in the mirror? He didn't want to think on it.

His fingers grasped the railing tight once more. There was something worth dying for in that. Los Angeles was his city, more so now after his own veil had been ripped away. The newspapers could sneer at him, Marie could vilify him to their children, but he would still fight, even if the enemy took more than one side.

Letting go, he allowed Elsa to lead him back into her apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt can be used as theme or wording. Had a little trouble with this prompt.
> 
> Words: 492


End file.
